Miss-Delectable
New Member
- Joined
- Apr 18, 2004
- Messages
- 17,160
- Reaction score
- 7
Quiet plea for the deaf from a grandmother
When you announce to the world that you are giving away $500,000, in this case as a special single grant through this newspaper's charity, The Vancouver Sun Children's Fund, and you ask people to suggest where that money might best be used to help children in need in B.C., you get a lot of heartfelt feedback.
You hear from big charitable organizations, with wide-ranging mandates and in-house foundations, and you hear from small non-profits that scramble day to day, with very little money, to deliver the most basic services to children in crisis, children with learning disabilities, children in poverty.
The message, though, is the same no matter the size: Thousands of children in this province need help, and while those needs are increasing, resources and donations are dwindling.
You soon get an overwhelming sense that the problems are so big that they almost seem insoluble.
And then you get the small, personal stories that put things in perspective, that give you a reason to keep pushing to do more, to do better.
Like the one that arrived by e-mail last week from 63-year-old Jean Farina, a "devoted nonna" who lives in Kelowna with her husband Lui.
Eighteen months ago their world was turned on its ear when their 32-year-old son Paul and his wife Shawna, 30, welcomed a brand new baby girl, Makena, to the family.
It was a time of joy, says Jean, especially as Makena was born just two days before the Farinas' other son, Steve, and his wife welcomed their new baby girl, Chiara.
But with that joy would come anguish, because, at the age of six months, Makena was diagnosed with profound hearing loss.
What followed has been a steep learning curve for the family, the challenge well beyond just raising a baby. They've also been busy researching childhood deafness while having Makena tested and assessed, most recently in September.
Today, Makena has the help of speech and language therapists and wears hearing aids, says Jean, but "there is no indication that she can hear anything at the highest range possible."
She is also learning sign language -- the family's bible is Baby's First Signs -- and can sign "Mom," "Dad," "grandparents," and "dog," the latter reserved for her pal Grizz, their golden retriever.
Next week, the family will travel to Vancouver to meet with the cochlear-implant team at B.C. Children's Hospital, where Makena will undergo more tests to determine if she is an implant candidate.
Jean wrote her e-mail, she says, not to complain about lack of services -- though in Kelowna, like many towns outside of Vancouver, resources for deaf children can be scarce -- or even to ask for financial aid for Makena.
In fact, she says, she's grateful that her family can afford to absorb expenses such as the cost of next week's trip to Vancouver, and that Makena has a great deal of support, both personally and professionally, from the Interior community.
She wrote to the Children's Fund about its $500,000 legacy, she says, because other families with deaf children aren't so lucky, especially in small communities.
Statistics are hard to nail down. The Canadian Association for the Deaf, for instance, uses the traditional "one in 10" formula, and concludes that there are 310,000 "culturally deaf" Canadians and 2.8 million hard-of-hearing Canadians.
(Culturally deaf refers to those who were born deaf or became deaf early in life, and communicate primarily by sign language.)
Other surveys range from one in eight to one in 25.
In all cases, there are strong disclaimers regarding dependability and accuracy, as much of the collected data is often mixed with other disabilities.
No one is arguing, however, that thousands of B.C. children suffer from some level of hearing loss, and the needs for early detection and treatment, and long-term attention, are acute.
The Farinas live close to Paul and Shawna and look after Makena every Friday ("we would gladly pay them for the privilege of doing this," says Jean.)
In fact, Jean and Lui moved to Kelowna earlier this year to be close to them, retiring from their jobs and their long-time home in Langley, where Lui worked in maintenance and Jean worked for the school district (and, years ago, learned sign language), as well as a volunteer at the Langley hospice.
"I believe Lui and I were meant to be in Kelowna for a reason and I believe our gorgeous granddaughter is it," she says.
"I know there are a lot of needy, needy children out there. And she's a happy wonderful little girl, with lots of support around her. It's not that she's an extreme case."
But, "if this funding could be put forward to where it is most needed in the deaf community, be it training speech and language specialists, new machines and equipment for testing, personnel to do the testing or a scholarship (or two or three) to encourage medical students to enter this field, that would be wonderful."
Her final word is the quiet plea of a devoted grandmother.
"Please."
When you announce to the world that you are giving away $500,000, in this case as a special single grant through this newspaper's charity, The Vancouver Sun Children's Fund, and you ask people to suggest where that money might best be used to help children in need in B.C., you get a lot of heartfelt feedback.
You hear from big charitable organizations, with wide-ranging mandates and in-house foundations, and you hear from small non-profits that scramble day to day, with very little money, to deliver the most basic services to children in crisis, children with learning disabilities, children in poverty.
The message, though, is the same no matter the size: Thousands of children in this province need help, and while those needs are increasing, resources and donations are dwindling.
You soon get an overwhelming sense that the problems are so big that they almost seem insoluble.
And then you get the small, personal stories that put things in perspective, that give you a reason to keep pushing to do more, to do better.
Like the one that arrived by e-mail last week from 63-year-old Jean Farina, a "devoted nonna" who lives in Kelowna with her husband Lui.
Eighteen months ago their world was turned on its ear when their 32-year-old son Paul and his wife Shawna, 30, welcomed a brand new baby girl, Makena, to the family.
It was a time of joy, says Jean, especially as Makena was born just two days before the Farinas' other son, Steve, and his wife welcomed their new baby girl, Chiara.
But with that joy would come anguish, because, at the age of six months, Makena was diagnosed with profound hearing loss.
What followed has been a steep learning curve for the family, the challenge well beyond just raising a baby. They've also been busy researching childhood deafness while having Makena tested and assessed, most recently in September.
Today, Makena has the help of speech and language therapists and wears hearing aids, says Jean, but "there is no indication that she can hear anything at the highest range possible."
She is also learning sign language -- the family's bible is Baby's First Signs -- and can sign "Mom," "Dad," "grandparents," and "dog," the latter reserved for her pal Grizz, their golden retriever.
Next week, the family will travel to Vancouver to meet with the cochlear-implant team at B.C. Children's Hospital, where Makena will undergo more tests to determine if she is an implant candidate.
Jean wrote her e-mail, she says, not to complain about lack of services -- though in Kelowna, like many towns outside of Vancouver, resources for deaf children can be scarce -- or even to ask for financial aid for Makena.
In fact, she says, she's grateful that her family can afford to absorb expenses such as the cost of next week's trip to Vancouver, and that Makena has a great deal of support, both personally and professionally, from the Interior community.
She wrote to the Children's Fund about its $500,000 legacy, she says, because other families with deaf children aren't so lucky, especially in small communities.
Statistics are hard to nail down. The Canadian Association for the Deaf, for instance, uses the traditional "one in 10" formula, and concludes that there are 310,000 "culturally deaf" Canadians and 2.8 million hard-of-hearing Canadians.
(Culturally deaf refers to those who were born deaf or became deaf early in life, and communicate primarily by sign language.)
Other surveys range from one in eight to one in 25.
In all cases, there are strong disclaimers regarding dependability and accuracy, as much of the collected data is often mixed with other disabilities.
No one is arguing, however, that thousands of B.C. children suffer from some level of hearing loss, and the needs for early detection and treatment, and long-term attention, are acute.
The Farinas live close to Paul and Shawna and look after Makena every Friday ("we would gladly pay them for the privilege of doing this," says Jean.)
In fact, Jean and Lui moved to Kelowna earlier this year to be close to them, retiring from their jobs and their long-time home in Langley, where Lui worked in maintenance and Jean worked for the school district (and, years ago, learned sign language), as well as a volunteer at the Langley hospice.
"I believe Lui and I were meant to be in Kelowna for a reason and I believe our gorgeous granddaughter is it," she says.
"I know there are a lot of needy, needy children out there. And she's a happy wonderful little girl, with lots of support around her. It's not that she's an extreme case."
But, "if this funding could be put forward to where it is most needed in the deaf community, be it training speech and language specialists, new machines and equipment for testing, personnel to do the testing or a scholarship (or two or three) to encourage medical students to enter this field, that would be wonderful."
Her final word is the quiet plea of a devoted grandmother.
"Please."
